


It's Chaos, Be Kind

by unfolded73



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Gen, Season/Series 07
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 14:44:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12937494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfolded73/pseuds/unfolded73
Summary: Post 7x08, Wish Hook and Henry (Captain Cobra v.2) have an evening out.





	It's Chaos, Be Kind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [just_another_classic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_another_classic/gifts).



> The title of this fic is from Patton Oswalt’s _Annihilation_ , and was apparently the motto of his late first wife. I don’t know how the concept ended up in this fic, but it did.

Taking a deep breath, Henry shifted the entrance flap aside and stepped into the tent. Hook was sitting up on the bed, looking a little less terrible than the last time Henry had seen him. 

“Hey,” he said, consciously keeping his distance from the other man. It was still a strange experience, looking at Hook’s familiar face and having to remind himself that this wasn’t the man he knew. Maybe his experience with Regina dividing into two people should have prepared him for this, but that was different. Both versions of his mother had been exactly that: his mother. This man was still essentially a stranger. “How are you feeling?” Henry asked, clasping his hands behind his back to give them something to do.

“I’m all right, lad. Thank you.” With a visible effort, he pulled himself to his feet. “What can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to… I mean, I know you don’t drink, but… I don’t know, go into town and… do something?” He shrugged, feeling all kinds of awkward. 

Hook raised an eyebrow. “Do something?”

“Yeah. Find a tavern, get some decent food for a change.”

“Seems risky for you to show your face in town, Henry. Lady Tremaine’s soldiers are still looking for you.”

Henry pulled the hood of his cloak up to hide his face. “It’ll be fine. I’m sure you can find a place down by the docks frequented by people who’ll mind their own business, right?”

Hook chuckled. “Aye, I suppose I can.” He seemed to reach an internal conclusion and nodded. “All right, then. Let’s go.” 

The ride to the shore via well-hidden forest trails was quiet, as the two men focused on their horses’ footing in the dim light of evening. Hook seemed to know exactly where to go once they arrived at the docks, not hesitating as he dismounted at the hitching post of what appeared to be the Platonic ideal of a seedy, dockside tavern. Henry followed his lead, hitching his horse to the post and tipping a few coppers to the boy who was charged with watching the patrons’ horses.

Keeping his hood up and head down as they walked in, Henry got the impression of a crowded, dank room that stank of stale beer and sweat and tallow candles. The wood under his feet was well worn, and he trained his eyes on the pointy-toed boots of the pirate in his company as he followed Hook to a table in a poorly lit corner of the room. Once seated, Henry took the chance to lower his hood, figuring that keeping his head covered would be more suspicious than just revealing his face. He’d have to hope that no one here was working for Lady Tremaine. By the looks of the dirty sailors who made up the clientele, that was a fairly safe bet.

A bored barmaid worked her way over to their table. Henry ordered an ale and a meat pie, hoping that the meat in it would be marginally edible. Hook ordered the same meat pie but asked for a cup of tea instead of ale. The barmaid gave him a confused look, but she sauntered off without a comment.

Henry suddenly felt guilty for bringing him here. “I’m sorry, Hook,” he said. “I probably should have come up with a better idea than bringing you to a booze-soaked tavern.”

Hook gave him a tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Don’t worry, lad, I won’t fall off the wagon just because another man is drinking in my line of sight.”

Not reassured, Henry shrugged. “Still. It’s too bad coffee shops and juice bars haven’t caught on here yet.” The confused frown that appeared on Hook’s face was terribly familiar, a look that his stepfather must’ve given him a thousand times over pop culture references that Killian didn’t understand. It made Henry’s heart constrict to see it. “Never mind,” he said quietly. “Anyway, thanks for coming with me, Hook. I felt like I needed some time away from the camp to think.”

“You can call me Killian,” Hook said. “If you prefer.”

Henry’s heart sank a little. “I… don’t know if I can, actually,” he replied with a wince. “After mom and… the other you got married, I mostly called _him_ Killian. It’s just easier to call you something different. I hope that’s okay. If ‘Hook’ bothers you, I can--”

“No, it’s fine. I understand. I’m a poor substitute for your stepfather, I’m sure.”

“It’s not that,” Henry said, guilt making him want to sink into the floor.

Silence settled, and eventually, the barmaid appeared with their meat pies and drinks. Henry took a grateful pull from his ale, which was better than anything they had to drink back at the rebel camp. The meat pie, on the other hand…

“This is awful,” Hook said, appearing to struggle to swallow the bite he had taken. 

“Yeah. Sorry. Wow, I’m just batting a thousand today.”

There was that confused look again. “Batting what?”

Henry again wished for the floor to open up underneath him. “Sorry. It doesn’t matter.”

“All right.”

“You probably regret coming on this adventure with me,” Henry said, grimacing. “I’m aware that Emma put you in a position where you couldn’t really say no.”

The confusion only deepened. “Are you joking? I got to see my daughter again. Even if it was only for a moment, I know now that she’s all right. I couldn’t be more grateful for that.”

Henry’s curiosity about Alice’s origins resurfaced. He settled back against the wall, keeping his face out of the lantern light. “So, you raised Alice alone?”

“Aye. Her mother… abandoned her. If I hadn’t been there for her, no one would have.” He took a sip of his tea. “Giving up my ship to stay behind with Alice when she was an infant was the only choice I could have made. I’ve never regretted it.”

Henry had pieced some of the story together, mostly from what Regina had told him when he and Ella returned from Wonderland. “And she couldn’t leave that tower? How did you manage it? How did you feed her and get clothes for her?”

Wiping his hand over his face, Hook hesitated before answering, and Henry wondered if his questions were too personal. “I made quick trips into town when I had to, although I was loathe to leave her alone. I paid some of the merchants to make deliveries when I could.” He shrugged. “I just… made do.”

Henry’s thoughts went to his stepfather, and how much he valued his relationships with so many people in Storybrooke, from Snow and David to Granny to their own version of Cinderella, and how he seemed to collect allies across the realms who found excuses to visit him or in Ariel’s case, call him on that ridiculous seashell. “That must have been very lonely.”

“It was, but what choice did I have? She’s my daughter,” he said as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

Henry gave him an affectionate smile. “Every version of you is a good father, I guess.”

Hook seemed surprised at that. “Do you think of him that way? As your father?” 

Shrugging, Henry shifting in his seat. “I only knew my real dad for a short time before he died, while Killian was in my life from the time I was around twelve. And he was married to my mom -- my other mom, Emma,” he added unnecessarily, “for most of my teen years. So yeah, I guess I think of him as my dad more than I do my biological father by this point.” A thought struck him, and Henry set his ale down with a thunk. “You don’t know who my father was, do you?”

He got an impassive look from Hook in response. “Should I?”

“It was Baelfire. Milah’s son. Milah was my grandmother.”

The shock on the other man’s face was palpable. “ _My_ Milah?”

“Yeah. My mom met Baelfire -- he went by Neal at that time -- in the world without magic, which she ended up in because of Regina’s curse. She didn’t know who he was… well, she didn’t know who _she_ was either since she’d been separated from her parents as a baby. It was only much later that she learned he was Rumpelstiltskin’s son.” Hook still looked shocked, and so Henry continued to ramble to fill the silence. “So, yeah, the other you ended up helping to raise Milah’s grandson, which is sort of poetic when you think about it.”

Hook cleared his throat. “Your family tree is complex.” His words were impassive, but Henry could still hear the emotion in his voice at the revelation of Henry’s parentage.

Laughing, he picked up his ale. “Yeah, no kidding.”

“And the other me… was a good father? Or, stepfather?”

“Oh yeah. I mean, we had some tough times, and I wasn’t always easy on him.” Henry grimaced. “Come to think of it, I could be a real asshole when I wanted to be.”

“That is the purview of teenagers, oftentimes,” Hook said.

“Yeah. But in spite of my attitude, he was… he was great. I was lucky to have him in my life. I’m not sure I appreciated it enough when I was growing up, but… now I miss him.” He looked down at his unappetizing dinner, pushing it away. “He was a good person to talk to, particularly when I was having romantic problems.”

Hook narrowed his eyes knowingly. “Is that the reason for this little outing tonight? Are you having romantic problems?”

“Not _problems_ , just… there’s a lot happening, and I thought…” He sighed. “Killian used to know just what to say, and I thought maybe you…”

“Would prove to be an adequate substitute?”

“Okay, well, that makes it sound like I’m using you as some kind of surrogate father figure.” He put his head in his hands. “I’m still the same asshole kid, apparently.” 

“You say that like I wouldn’t be honored to listen, Henry.” 

Henry closed his eyes. He could almost imagine that it really was his stepfather he was talking to, even though their mannerisms and even their voices were not entirely identical. But this man wasn’t his stepfather, and he’d do well to remember that. They didn’t have the shared history that he had with his mother’s husband. Not only that, but this man’s timeline had diverged decades ago, and different experiences meant he was a different man. Just because they shared the same face and a lot of the same backstory didn’t mean the two Killian Joneses would have the same outlook on the world.

“Come on, lad, tell me what’s troubling you,” Hook said, tapping the table with a finger. 

Henry took a deep breath and let it out. “It’s Ella.”

“Ah. Trouble in paradise?”

“No, that’s just it, things are _good_. Really good. I think… I think I’m falling in love with her.”

Hook raised an eyebrow at him. “So what’s the problem?”

“I grew up with all of these people around me who had these huge, epic love stories. My grandparents -- the other ones, Snow White and Prince Charming -- overcame _multiple_ curses to be together. Emma and the other Killian… I mean, he literally died for her more than once! It’s a lot to live up to.”

“Aye, I imagine it would be.”

“So I left Storybrooke to find that. To find that kind of amazing, life-shattering true love. Sure, I told myself it was to have other kinds of adventures, to see the world and write about it: to find my story. But when I imagined my story, I always imagined myself with a partner. Someone I could maybe have a family with.”

“And perhaps now you’ve found her.” 

“Yeah, but have I?” The strong ale on an empty stomach was making him feel a little bit drunk already. “There are so many realms, so many people.” He waved a hand in the air vaguely. “Could I really have found my soulmate, if there is such a thing?”

The exhale that Hook gave him in response was full of exasperation. “What exactly do you think is going to happen when you meet this person, Henry? Is a choir of angels going to come down and proclaim your true love from on high?”

“No, but--”

“I’ve spent a lot of time over the last few years thinking about fate. Apparently, a significant portion of my fate was in the hands of Regina and her bloody dark curse. She doesn’t cast the curse, and I wind up with my wonderful Alice. She does cast the curse, and I wind up in a strange realm married to the Savior.”

Henry blinked at him. “What’s your point?”

“My point is, all it took was one change in something that I had absolutely no control over, and I ended up living a completely different life. I fell in love -- true love, apparently -- with a woman who in the realm of the Wish, I barely crossed paths with. And my beloved Alice never even existed. My point is, it’s chaos. All of it.”

“Great,” Henry said sarcastically.

Hook leaned in, stabbing at the table with his index finger. “It’s chaos, so if you’ve met a woman you love, who makes you feel like if only you could kiss her you’d be able to conquer the world, then for fuck’s sake, don’t waste your life looking for something better. If she’ll allow it, hold onto her and don’t let go.” He leaned back on his seat again. “I only ever knew that kind of love with one woman. The fate of your stepfather tells me that perhaps someday I can know it again. But it’s beautiful and terrible and _rare_ , and if you waste your bloody chance with Ella, then I’ll see you walk the plank.”

Henry gaped at him, and then he felt a laugh bubble up inappropriately. “What plank would that be?”

Hook rolled his eyes. “It’s a metaphorical plank.”

“Ah. I see. A _metaphorical_ plank.”

“Were you this much of a pain the arse of your stepfather?” Hook asked, the pitch of his voice rising in indignation.

“Almost daily.” Henry scratched at the soft wood of the table next to where someone had carved their initials. _Beautiful and terrible and rare_ , he thought, remembering the way Ella’s lips had felt against his. The way his heart tried to trip over itself anytime she passed in front of his field of vision. “Thank you. For listening, and… for being my friend.”

“Well, clearly you need someone to talk some sense into you occasionally.”

Henry grinned widely. “Clearly.”

Hook sighed and stood up, putting some coins on the table. “Shall we go back to the camp and see if we can scrounge up some decent food?”

“Yeah, we probably should.”

“Perhaps you should seek out your lady love and fall upon her mercy for a hot meal,” Hook said as they exited the tavern.

“Or perhaps I should do the opposite of that and invite _her_ back to my tent for a late-evening meal,” Henry replied.

“Ah, you’re right, that is a better scheme,” Hook said. 

Henry made his way over to his horse, patting its neck in greeting. “It’s not a _scheme_. I’m trying to be nice.”

Mounting his horse, Hook looked over at him. “Thank you for inviting me out, lad.”

“For inviting you to a place where you can’t drink the alcohol and the food is terrible? Yeah, real nice of me,” he muttered as he settled into the saddle of his own horse.

“For sharing a conversation with me, and for caring what I think. It was very kind of you.”

“Well,” Henry said, “someone tells me it’s all chaos. Is there anything else we can do but be kind to each other?”

Hook smiled. “No, I suppose there isn’t.”


End file.
